


Painting Flowers

by shir_oh_no



Series: Shance Art AU [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Body Paint, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Praise Kink, Smut, gosh this is cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 06:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10893708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shir_oh_no/pseuds/shir_oh_no
Summary: Shiro paints Lance's back. Smut ensues.





	Painting Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I got drunk and wrote smut. Anyways here u go.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Shiro leaned over his boyfriend, pressing his lips against the space between Lance’s shoulder blades and murmuring into the soft skin.

“Oh my god, Shiro, this was _my_ idea,” Shiro couldn’t see his face, but Shiro was almost positive Lance was rolling his eyes.

Shiro smiled and ran his flesh hand up Lance’s back, feeing the muscles shifting under the smooth tan skin, using his prosthetic to support his weight. Lance and Shiro had been planning for this all week, and were both practically shaking in anticipation. They had placed a towel on Shiro’s bed to catch any potential paint spills, and now Lance lay on it, chest down. His arms were bent out, allowing him to rest his chin on his hands comfortably. Shiro was straddling Lance’s upper thighs, resting most of his weight on his own knees.

Shiro straightened out, sitting fully up. “Promise you’ll let me know if you’re uncomfortable? Whether it’s because you need to move or because the paint is causing your skin to react, please let me know.”

“I promise, but we did a patch test yesterday and I’m fine can you please just start already?” Lance whined.

Shiro chuckled, feeling his laughter moving through him and vibrating Lance’s body underneath his thighs. He picked up a paintbrush and dipped it into a yellow orange paint on his palette. Before he began, he bent over Lance once more, kissing up his spine until he reached the short hairs at the back of his neck, where he tucked his nose into the soft skin under the back of Lance’s jaw. He heard Lance’s breath hitch and pulled away, bringing the paintbrush to the lower right side of Lance’s back, and pressing the yellow onto his skin.

* * *

 Lance’s eyes fluttered shut, his mouth dropping open slightly. The paint was cold against his back, but the room surrounding he and Shiro was warm, the heat turned up for Lance’s comfort, as he was the only one with his shirt off. Shiro was light handed with his brushstrokes, and Lance was pulled into a sense of comfort by the steady pattern Shiro was painting in. The brush tickled softly, not enough to make him move, but enough to keep him from falling asleep in such a state of comfort. His mind quieted, tuning out the millions of thoughts that had been filling his head since he had thought of this idea.

A week ago, Lance had been scrolling through Instagram while watching a movie with Shiro and came across a picture of a girl with a galaxy painted on her back, and Lance had been struck by it immediately. It was one thing to be the object of art, but it was something else entirely to be the work of art itself, and Lance wanted it so bad. He had shown the picture to Shiro with a casual “we should do this”, and Shiro had taken very little convincing, but wanted a few safety precautions. He wanted to wait a week to do research on what paints would work best for long periods of time, needed to come up with a design, and had stressed the importance of a patch test on Lance’s skin, knowing how much the other man cared for his skin, and terrified to potentially harm it. But now, a week later, they had everything planned out, and nowhere to be for the rest of the weekend, and Lance was loving every second he felt Shiro’s hand and paintbrush stroking his back.

Lance turned his head, resting his cheek on his hands, his eyes still shut. He listened to the sound of Shiro’s breaths. He had no idea what Shiro was painting, but knowing him, it was going to be beautiful and colorful, and Lance was going to love it. Shiro paused in his movements, and with the stillness, Lance could feel a slight tingling in his thighs where Shiro’s movements had made them move by proxy. Lance cracked open his eye to see Shiro’s prosthetic drop the yellow covered brush into his water mug and pick up a clean one. He watched him dip it into a vivid magenta before both the brush and Shiro’s hand disappeared again. This time, the brush swept across his left shoulder blade.

Lance felt the brush curve against his skin, and could only imagine what Shiro was creating. The brush felt so good. Lance closed his eyes again and got lost in the drag of the brush. He hummed softly, satisfied in the silence that was surrounding him in his mind, and around him and Shiro in Shiro’s room.

“You doing okay?” Shiro’s deep voice broke through Lance’s mindset.

“Yeah,” Lance’s voice cracked as Shiro brushed against his upper spine, a white-hot heat searing through his core. Lance tried to breathe in, his throat catching around the air.

* * *

  Shiro paused again, his brush pressed against Lance’s spine. Lance sounded _off_. “Lance?”

“Hmm?” Lance lifted his head up slightly, his back muscles rippling under his skin in the most alluring way.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Shiro asked, staring at the back of the other man’s head, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Lance shook his head, trying to clear it, “Yeah babe, I promise ‘m fine. Just feels really good, s’all.” His words slurred together, his voice thick in the otherwise silence.

Hesitantly, Shiro moved his brush, continuing the pattern on Lance’s spine. Lance stiffened, his head falling back onto his hands. He let out a soft moan and _oh_ , that’s why he sounded off. Shiro gulped, lifting his left hand to run through his hair.

He pulled the brush away from Lance’s skin. “Do you need me to stop?”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Lance huffed.

“Lance if you keep making noises like that I’m not gonna wanna stop and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Lance groaned, shifting slightly to get his weight off his hands. He moved his left hand out from under himself and twisted it around his back, palm facing up. Shiro took it hesitantly, lacing his fingers with Lance’s.

“Please don’t stop?” Lance asked, his voice soft and small, mumbled into the sheets under him.

Shiro tilted his head back and took a deep breath. Lance’s back was only half done, and he really wanted to finish it. He swapped out paintbrushes, dipping his new one into a stark white Shiro had daydreamed about painting across Lance’s skin. He moved to the top right of Lance’s back and painted a cluster of small daisies around his shoulder blade, trying to ignore Lance as the other man shifted his hips, grinding down softly against the bed.

Shiro ignored his desires as he continued painting Lance’s back, adding a flower petal here, brushing his fingertips against Lance there. Lance’s ass moved up and down right in front of Shiro’s throbbing cock, and it took all of Shiro’s focus to continue painting his boyfriend’s back.

Every time Shiro brushed across Lance’s spine, the man under him moaned softly, just enough to make Shiro’s dick twitch with interest. When he finally finished the flowers, Shiro allowed himself a moment of reprieve, dropping his latest dirty paintbrush to join the growing collection in his water mug. He placed his hands on Lance’s hips and pulled the other man’s ass into his groin, grinding against him. Shiro’s eyes fluttered at Lance’s responding high-pitched whine.

Using all his strength, he pulled his hands away, grabbing a thin paintbrush and dipping it into a deep green paint. Shiro quickly connected the flowers dotting Lance’s back, winding vines between flowers and branching heart shaped leaves off of them. Shiro bent down, brushing his lips against the empty space between a yellow sunflower and a vine to the right of his spine, causing Lance to keen and grind back against Shiro.

“Please, Shiro,” he whined.

Shiro’s resolve broke. He dropped the latest paintbrush into his mug and quickly grabbed his phone, snapping a few photos of the mostly-complete art on Lance’s back, then tossed it gently to the other side of the bed. He got off the back of Lance’s thighs and yanked the other man to his knees by his shoulder.

Lance’s head rolled back, his eyes unfocused. Shiro tilted his face towards his own and kissed him softly.

“My pretty boy,” he whispered against Lance’s lips.

Lance gasped, his chest visibly shaking. “Please,” his voice broke.

Shiro took his shirt off and pressed his chest to Lance’s back, a voice in the back of his mind letting him know he was going to end up with prints of wet paint on his stomach.

“You look so good. I painted flowers all over your back,” Shiro praised, his tone was harsher, and he slipped his hand around Lance’s body and down to his pants. Shiro popped the button of his jeans and reached in, wrapping his hand around Lance’s member and kissed the spot behind his ear that had him crying. Shiro breathed loving words into his tan skin, “You look beautiful covered in color. I should do this all the time, making you prettier than you always are.”

“Shiro, please, more,” Lance panted, tears forming in his eyes in frustration.

Shiro took pity on his boyfriend, stroking the other man’s erection slowly. “One of these days I should ride you and paint your chest. Bet you’d beg to cum in me.”

Lance whined loudly, his body tensing against Shiro’s.

“I bet you’re about to cum, aren’t you?” Shiro ground against Lance’s ass, panting in his ear and tightening his grip. “My paintbrush alone was enough to turn you on. I bet if I tried, I could get you to cum just from it touching you.”

Lance’s body shuddered as he came in his pants, against Shiro’s hand. The tears that had been forming in his eyes finally released and ran down his face in joy. Shiro felt his own release as Lance shook against him.

“Good boy,” Shiro breathed, releasing his hold of Lance’s dick.

“Ah,” Lance shook, trying to regain control of his body.

“Are you okay?” Shiro’s tone softened, “I didn’t go too far did I?”

Lance shook his head frantically. “Headspace,” he tried to explain, “good.”

Shiro wrapped both arms around Lance’s torso, pulling them both down into a laying position, Shiro spooning Lance. Shiro chuckled, his laughs shaking though Lance’s body. “You were so good for me.”

Lance hummed, a contented smile on his face. They stayed like that for a few minutes as Lance slowly came back to himself, Shiro’s heartbeat against his back the first thing he became aware of.

Lance tilted his head back against Shiro’s shoulder and sighed.

“You good?” Shiro asked, amusement coloring his voice.

“So good,” Lance said, “let’s do that again.”

Shiro laughed loudly, “Later, babe.”

Lance smiled, thankful he hadn’t scared Shiro away.

“I say we get dinner after this and talk about what just happened?” Shiro suggested. “It was good, but a little unexpected.”

Lance nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Kinda. Not really. It was _really_ good for me.”

Shiro nuzzled into Lance’s neck, “It was good for me too, but I didn’t really get to finish my painting. You were a little distracting.” He reached for his phone and pulled up the pictures he had taken of Lance’s back.

Lance took the phone away from Shiro, his hands still trembling slightly. He flipped through the pictures, his smile growing as he saw the collection of flowers Shiro had painted across his back. There were yellow sunflowers, pink dahlias, white daisies, and red roses, all intertwined with dark green vines, the colors all beautiful and vivid against his skin.

“Shiro,” Lance breathed, “this is beautiful.” He wiggled back deeper into Shiro’s arms, the other man holding onto him tight.

“You’re beautiful,” Shiro stated, “but I think the painting might be ruined by now. The paint was still wet when we, you know."

“Grinded like horny teenagers?” Lance laughed.

“Exactly. I think we may need a shower.”

Lance pouted. “Carry me?”

“Ugh. Fine. Just let me close my eyes for a minute.”

Shiro wasn’t worried about paint ending up on his sheets; it was nothing they hadn’t seen before. When he and Lance woke up, they would no doubt regret not having taken a shower before, most likely being stuck together by the paint on Lance’s back, but for now, they were content, unconcerned with anything beyond their growing affection for one another.

Shiro smiled, already well on his way to sleep. He would do anything for this boy who brought color into his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Some lovely art of Lance covered in paint by the wonderful [anira8884](http://anira8884.tumblr.com/post/161460685539/this-is-for-shir-oh-no-for-their-art-au)
> 
> As always, I'm on tumblr at [shir-oh-no](https://shir-oh-no.tumblr.com/)


End file.
